


The demon inside

by UnproblematicMe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dark Crowley (Good Omens), Degrading Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk, Dominant Crowley (Good Omens), Jealousy, Love, Misunderstandings, Other, Possessive Crowley, Possessiveness, Rough Sex, Sex, Top Crowley (Good Omens), angst with happy ending, but still mind the noncon warning, mainly book or tv canon but some details just my personal headcanon, nobody actually gets raped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-07-31 03:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20108542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnproblematicMe/pseuds/UnproblematicMe
Summary: After the apocalypse that wasn't, Crowley has the luxury to spend as much time with Aziraphale as he wants. But the new proximity stokes old feelings he finds harder to control every day.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags.  
I never wrote Good Omens smut before, but I guess it was bound to happen.  
Feedback is always appreciated, but please be constructive with criticism. Hit me with spelling and grammar errors you find, I am no native speaker and have no beta reader.
> 
> In case you are on discord: There is a nice little server I am on that I'd love seeing come to life again. It's for the Good Omens fans that are into Bottom!Aziraphale and we can discuss stories, art and headcanons. Maybe drop by? :)  
https://discord.gg/CtDxUGE

The apocalypse that never came sure had been something. Not as much of something as it would have been if it, well, would have been. But still it had rocked the proverbial boat. With luck and the help of a dead witch Aziraphale and Crowley had survived the aftermath that came in the form of their murderous superiors. That left everybody a bit clueless about their place in the world. Both angel and demon had kept their powers. (Crowley had even attended a chicken pox party to see if he still was immune to diseases. Aziraphale until the very day insisted that it had been a dumb idea.)

Hell had sent him a final letter[1] but left him alone since then. Heaven had had the nerve to send Aziraphale an order three days after the Archangels had tried to murder him. The angel had sent a polite answer, stating that he did not feel as part of Heaven any longer since he was to be executed by its leaders and therefor deemed it better for everyone if he left its service.[2] After that there was silence from the divine side as well.

Crowley and Aziraphale were free to do whatever they wanted. And more importantly: they could do it with whoever they wanted. Of course they wanted it to be each other. To Crowley’s dismay they did exactly what they had done before, just more frequently and less secretive. Not that the demon did not like their walks, their banter, their drunken discussions or their visits in nice restaurants. Oh no! He loved spending time with Aziraphale.

But Crowley wanted more. He loved the angel. He wanted all of him. He wanted to kiss him, hold him and fuck him. The possessive streak that had stirred inside him for millennia was now ever vigilant. Every man or woman that would so much as smile at his angel would find dogshit under their shoes several moments later. Talking to him in a flirty manner would – depending on the intensity - result in slipping on a banana peel or their car being stripped, no matter whether they parked legally or not (heck, no matter whether they owned a car or not).

This undoubtedly demonic part of Crowley demanded for Aziraphale to be taken away, somewhere where nobody else could even lay their greedy eyes on his angel, let alone touch him. Somewhere where he could be locked up, only for Crowley to have whenever he wanted him.[3]

The demon was optimistic that Aziraphale loved him, too. He might not be able to feel love, but he was an expert in reading people. Sure, he had gained that ability by watching humans for millennia, but - unlike the other angels he had met - a lot of human behavior applied to Aziraphale just as well. In addition to this he had known the angel since the beginning of time and could read him without using any supernatural powers. So the demon was sure that, aside from being a creature made to love anyway, Aziraphale’s affection towards Crowley was personal, not just inclusive.

But what did having Aziraphale’s love mean? Was it only the love of a friend? Or more? A soulmate? A lover?

What were the boundaries? Was holding hands alright? Was kissing alright? Was bending Aziraphale over a table and taking him roughly alright?

It left Crowley with a dilemma. On the one hand he did not want to go too fast (not again) by taking initiative. On the other hand Aziraphale was not the type to make the first step and it might end in another millennia passing before Crowley would know where they stood. And maybe yet another thousand years before he could get to business. This was no desirable outcome and so his frustration grew. With every passing hour it became harder to be in Aziraphale’s presence and to push away the carnal thoughts. Crowley wanted to grab his angel, push him against any available vertical or horizontal surface and take him. He wanted Aziraphale on his knees, on his back, on his stomach. The demon wanted to claim him as his. Mark him with love bites and cum. But he really did not know how to broach that specific subject without sending the angel running.

*

The summer came to an end. On the trees of St. James Park the leaves turned from green to red and yellow, gentle breezes became cool winds and the London rain fell more frequently. It was on a Saturday that they were sitting in the back of Aziraphale’s bookshop, boozing a bit (or a bit more) after a good dinner.

Crowley was happy. Here, between the cluttered bookshelves, in the warm and friendly light, he found the familiarity he needed to relax. No longer needing to keep their distance, the two supernatural beings sat next to each other on the cozy sofa. The angel was busy being adorable and Crowley was busy to remain in a not aroused state (at least keeping it in the invisible area). Aziraphale rambled away happily about the dark beauty of Robert Frost’s poetry while his light skin glowed with his delight and love for literature. A lovely rosy tint spread across the round cheeks of his cherub face and a beautiful smile had settled around his plush lips permanently.

Crowley was doing just fine. Really! But then the oblivious angel wanted to show him a book on the table near the couch. And so, a little tipsy already, he leaned over the demon to reach it. The position brought the angel’s delectable neck dangerously close to the demon’s face. The smell of Aziraphale’s cologne, the exposed throat with the inviting pulse point, ready to lick and bite, the sweet voice rambling on and the adorable drunken clumsiness all hit the unprepared Crowley simultaneously.

Suddenly there sounded a very dark voice from deep down inside him. It told him to just skip the step of getting permission and take what he wanted. They were evenly matched in supernatural powers, but Crowley’s skills were much better suited for a fight and Crowley’s vessel was in better shape. He could easily pin the angel down and have his way with him.

Shocked by his own dark thoughts, Crowley jumped to his feet, almost knocking over Aziraphale who had just managed to grab the book and was trying to get back into his initial position.

“Crowley, what…” Aziraphale cast him a confused look.

“Sorry, Angel!” the demon stuttered. “I forgot… a thing…”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, I need to do a thing! I gotta go!”

“Already?” Aziraphale pouted, the movement of his mouth NOT helping with Crowley’s current condition.

“Yeah, I am sorry.” The demon managed to stumble away. “I’ll call you tomorrow, when…”

“…you did the thing?” the other being finished with an expression of sadness and hurt. Of course Aziraphale knew that there was no ‘thing’. The angel was a bit naïve sometimes but smart and it was impossible – even in his intoxicated state – to miss the obvious lie.

“Right!” Crowley answered nonetheless. He knew the angel knew and the angel knew that he knew. What the angel did not know was why Crowley escaped all of the sudden and he did not ask.

“Alright then,” Aziraphale said with a smile that did not reach the sad blue eyes and a light wave. “Be safe, dear boy. And sober up before you drive.”

“’Course, Angel!” the demon promised, trying for his trademark grin but only managing a crooked smile.

Feeling the angel’s sad gaze in his back, he stumbled towards the exit. After checking that Anathema’s sigils to keep Aziraphale safe were still intact, he miracled himself through the locked door. He sobered up before entering his car and drove home. Except, when he finally entered his apartment, he was once more confronted with the fact that this was not his home. It had never been. It was a place to store stuff and retreat to, not a home. Aziraphale’s shop was more of a home for him. But only as long as the angel was there, too. Aziraphale was home. Right now, however, he could not go to this home without risking to lose it forever.

Restlessly he roamed his flat. For good measure he growled at his plants as he passed them, grabbed a bottle of whisky from the kitchen and started drinking, sat on his throne. He cast a nostalgic glance at his old-fashioned answering machine that he only kept because the modern ones could not play the collected tapes with the ridiculous messages left by Aziraphale. Next to it stood a tartan patterned thermos, much more treasured than the former container of a deadly weapon should be, as well as a nondescript wooden box guarding every letter or note, no matter how plain or simple, his angel had ever written to Crowley. It was basically the Holy Trinity of things that would make him the laughing stock of Hell if they knew.

Crowley was too soft for a demon. That he knew. And while Aziraphale was the person who had since the beginning of time cultured his non-demonic attributes, he ironically was also the person who now unknowingly poked his demonic side by being incredibly enticing. He awoke an amount of jealousy, possessiveness and – nowadays, when denied – rage that Crowley had not known before and found it harder to control with every passing day.

Drinking did not help, so he left the bottle next to his throne and decided to call it a night. Even when all other forms of escapism failed him, sleep was his last resort. A reliable comrade to fight off the grim reality. Not a long-run solution but still better than nothing. As he stumbled into his bedroom, his inviting four poster bed with the black silken sheets greeted him as well as the star adorned dark sky outside the huge panorama window. Usually the nightly lights above always managed to capture him at least for a while. But tonight his mind was too occupied with the demon inside him that demanded to return to the bookshop and claim what was his. Groaning Crowley fell face first into his sheets, praying for a good night’s sleep. And eventually it came.

*

Here they were again, rounding off an average post-armageddon’t day in Aziraphale’s sanctuary in the back of his shop. Nosy customers successfully chased away for the day, the unfriendly London autumn locked out and any unkind thought pushed aside, they both had gotten comfortable once more on Aziraphale’s couch. The old desk lamp was the only source of light and tinted the room in a warm orange colored glow, lulling Crowley in a sense of home and belonging. Until Aziraphale decided to be lazy about refilling his glass but not lazy enough. Neither did he get up and went around the couch to get the wine bottle, nor did he just miracle it over. Instead he opted for kneeling on the couch and bending over Crowley’s body to reach the wine, once again presenting his inviting throat.

This time something inside the demon snapped. Without hesitation he leaned forward pressing a soft yet possessive kiss on Aziraphale’s neck. The angel’s eyes widened in surprise and when Crowley wanted to repeat his action, he found that the blonde was trying to move away. With demonic speed Crowley snaked his arms around the angel’s delicious belly and his back to pull him closer. As Aziraphale started to struggle harder, the demon growled in anger and impatience, yanked the other close with force and bit down at the tender pale flesh of his friend’s throat.

Aziraphale yelped and pushed his right elbow into Crowley’s stomach but caused nothing more than an annoyed hiss. Now he was trying to fight back in earnest, evaporating the tiny remains of Crowley’s patience. With a deep guttural sound in his throat the demon pushed his counterpart from the couch with his whole body’s force, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

With demonic speed Crowley at the last second brought his right hand between Aziraphale’s head and the floor. Using his left to press on the angel’s chest and keep him down, he chuckled darkly.

“That could have hurt your pretty head, angel,” he purred. “Good thing I was here.”

“Crowley, _you_ tackled me!” Aziraphale stated breathless, anger swinging in his voice. “Saving me does not count, if you are the one to endanger me.”

“What about all those times, you endangered yourself and I saved you?” Crowley removed his dark glasses to stare directly into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Do they count?”

Immediately the angel’s expression softened and he smiled that affectionate tender smile that now went right into Crowley’s groin.

“Of course they do, dear,” he answered with so much adoration in his voice and on his features that the demon could not suppress a groan escaping his lips.

Startled Aziraphale furrowed his brows.

“Are you alr…” he began but was at once interrupted by the demon’s lips on his.

With his mouth occupied, he drew in a shocked breath through his nose and lifted his arms to push against Crowley’s shoulders. Unfazed the redhead seized his wrists and pinned them harshly on the floor next to his head. Crowley’s legs forced the angel’s apart and he rubbed his growing erection against the blonde’s thick thighs. A light disappointment hit him as he felt nothing similar between the other’s legs, but the night was still young. Insistently he flicked his forked tongue along the angel’s bottom lip to demand entrance but was denied. The stubborn angel pressed his lips together. Angrily Crowley pulled away.

“So, no reward for all the countless times I saved that delicious butt of yours?” he asked hoarsely.

“You never asked for a reward before.” Aziraphale was still struggling but halted to look at his counterpart for a moment.

“I am asking _now_!” Crowley gave back in a dark voice, tightening his grip.

He wanted to lean down again when he noticed something else. There was a slight itch, tingling in his fingers as Aziraphale began to activate his divine powers to fight him off. Growling the demon answered in kind, letting the infernal powers buried inside him flow through his fingers.

Aziraphale gasped in shock, the warm blue glow around his hands fading out, but Crowley only grinned.

“You wanna play like that, angel? Fine by me,” he hissed, the threat obvious.

True to his words, black tendrils of smoke were weaving from his hands, circling around the angel’s wrists. Appearing as nothing but dark dust they effectively held Aziraphale in place. The divine being again called upon his own powers, but not only was he not strong enough to break the bonds, they also burnt every time he tried.

Understanding his situation, he with pleading and desperate blue eyes searched Crowley’s face who only gave him a look of mock sympathy.

“Aww, don’t be sad!” he cooed. “Your powers just are… different.”

“Crowley…,” Aziraphale begged.

“You’re so good at healing, blessing, inspiring,… tempting.” Crowley used his now free hands to roam the soft body beneath him while tenderly nipping along the angel’s jaw. With a leering grin he finally added: “And I bet, we’ll find something else you’re good for.”

Once more his lips found his counterpart’s, pressing, nipping, licking, insisting on deepening the kiss. And again Aziraphale denied entrance. Only this time Crowley no longer needed his hands to keep him in place since the infernal bonds did that for him. With an impatient growl the demon grabbed the blond curls of his captive and yanked his head back to expose the milky white throat. Possessively he bit down, sucking until he drew blood. He felt Aziraphale fighting an involuntary gasp of pain, but eventually the angel had to give in, needing an outlet for the burning sensation.

As soon as the soft pink lips parted, Crowley was at them again, pushing his long forked tongue in. Accompanied by the muffled sounds of protest, he explored the helpless angel’s mouth, moaning and groaning out his own pleasure. His tongue caught Aziraphale’s, slinging along it, dominating the brutal kiss.

With his upper body trapped, the blonde began bucking his hips in an attempt to throw the other off, but he failed, the movement only adding to Crowley’s arousal. With another throaty sound of pleasure, the demon sat up and snapped his fingers, leaving both beings stark naked on the floor. The demon’s cock sprung free, standing tall and proudly, precum dripping on the tied angel’s stomach. The black tendrils holding Aziraphale in place stood in harsh contrast to the angel’s milky skin and his soft curvy body was the perfect counterbalance to Crowley’s own bony structure.

“You’re so beautiful! My perfect angel!” Crowley breathed, almost reverently. “All mine!”

Aziraphale was silent. Whether he had given up or was plotting, the demon could not tell and did not care. He was confident to have his angel tightly secured.

Crowley looked down on the body beneath him to let his gaze greedily wander along the angel’s soft curves until his eyes fell between his legs. A dark chuckle escaped him. Surprised but not at all put off by the choice of effort the angel had made, he softly stroke over the pubic mound, making his way to the soft folds hiding what he was looking for.

“Crowley, please, don’t…” Aziraphale whispered, but Crowley barely heard him.

“Clever angel”, he purred. “That’s why I couldn’t feel your interest through your clothes. But interested you are…”

It was true. Slipping one long finger between the labia, he found the angel’s entrance warm and wet. He moaned at the sensation and the thought alike, circling around the opening.

“Crowley, that’s just a bodily reaction, it doesn’t mean…” Aziraphale began but was shut up by Crowley’s hand, circling around his throat, painting it in his own wetness.

“It means that your body wants it! You want it!” Crowley growled. “Just as I want you! And tonight I will have you! Understood?”

He tightened his grip around the other’s throat, not enough to hurt or choke but to emphasize his determination.

“I asked if you understood me,” he pressed out between bared teeth when the angel remained silent.

Aziraphale nodded, but as Crowley cast him a threatening look, he hurried to answer in a small voice: “Understood.”

“Good boy!” the redhead commended and leaned down for another kiss.

Subdued Aziraphale no longer fought and parted his lips. He did not really participate but allowed Crowley’s tongue to freely roam and claim. Eventually the demon pulled off to catch his breath he did not need but had gotten used to. Again he sat up. While he slowly parted the angel’s legs, he directly looked into his eyes, daring him to fight him. But the blonde remained pliant and still. Satisfied Crowley returned to his ministrations between the vulva’s soft lips. Carefully he parted them with one hand and let the other explore the wet and inviting space between them. He circled the clit, now and then casually brushing it. Aziraphale whimpered.

“Oh, don’t worry, Aziraphale,” Crowley said sarcastically. “That’s just a bodily reaction.”

His fingers ventured down and found the damp entrance again. Teasingly playing around the endearing hole, the demon asked: “Ever used before?”

Aziraphale looked at him with righteous indignation but remained silent.

“Answer me!” Crowley demanded loudly. “Words, Aziraphale!”

“No, never!” the angel sobbed.

A new wave of pleasure washed over Crowley at this confirmation. Nobody had known his angel in this way before. He would be the first to claim him.

“Mine!” he growled, pushing a long finger into the virginal entrance.

Aziraphale cried out at the intrusion and started begging again. But Crowley was not fooled. The angel’s pussy was dripping wet and ever so often clenched around his finger. The little bastard wanted that and was playing hard to get.

“Still with the ‘innocent angel’ act?” he mocked, pushing a second finger in. “Others may buy that, but I don’t.”

“Oh, I once did buy it!” he assured while pressing in a third finger. “I thought ‘cute, he tempts me with oysters and doesn’t even know the implications’ or ‘he has no idea what he does to me dressed like that and chained up in the Bastille’. But I know now, angel. I know now.”

Said angel was writhing and moaning in unwanted pleasure while Crowley worked him open, no longer trying to convince his friend to let him go.

“I see through your games by now,” Crowley continued. “You wanted to keep up the façade but couldn’t wait for me to break through it. You were practically begging me to drag you into my bed and have my way with you. Couldn’t wait for my cock to be buried inside you. You probably don’t even care which hole I use, as long as I use _you_. Isn’t that true?”

Aziraphale whimpered while the demon kept pumping his fingers into his tight entrance but managed to shake his head.

“Liar!” Crowley laughed.

He pulled his fingers out and positioned himself between the angel’s legs. Lining up his cock he addressed Aziraphale once more.

“Liar,” he repeated almost softly. “I told you. I see through your act. You want me to make you. To use you. Make you my whore.”

Before the angel had a chance to react to the harsh words, Crowley roughly entered him. A scream escaped Aziraphale’s lips, accompanied by a deep moan of pleasure from the demon. From the beginning he set up a punishing pace, giving the angel no chance to adjust, just pushing in and out with forceful thrusts. After the rhythm was set, the demon stole another kiss before nipping along the other’s jawline. When he reached the earlobe, he started to nibble and lick, causing Aziraphale to shudder.

“Just admit it,” Crowley hissed into the angel’s ear. “You waited for me to take you. Act as holy as you want. At the end of the day you’re just a little slut.”

A little sob sounded from underneath and Crowley made a soothing noise.

“Shhh, it’s okay, angel,” he said, for a moment settling in for a slower pace. “I got you. Don’t cry! I know that you wouldn’t spread your legs for just anyone. You wouldn’t, would you?”

He grabbed the angel’s chin and forced him to look at him.

“No,” Aziraphale whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“You need _me_, right?” Crowley whispered. “You’re not just a little whore. You’re _my_ little whore.”

Instead of an answer Aziraphale just sobbed and turned his head away. But Crowley was not having that. His hand still at the blonde’s chin, he made the angel face him again.

“Say it!” he demanded. “Say, you’re mine. My whore.”

He picked up his pace again, slamming into the angel with a brutal force, making him scream.

“Say it!” he repeated with a growl.

“Yes, I am!” Aziraphale cried out desperately. “I am yours, your whore!”

These words. These words exclaimed by his angel’s sweet voice pushed Crowley over the edge. With a shout he buried his face in the angel’s neck and bit down once more, marking what was his. He spilled his essence buried deep inside Aziraphale’s body, snapping his hips forcefully while he rode out his orgasm.

“Mine!” he kept repeating. “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

*

Breathing heavily, Crowley jerked awake. Sitting up, he looked around. His bed, his bedroom, his apartment. No angel. But the shameful remains of his dream, soaking his sheets, reminding him of his despicable nature, of his dreadful desires. Feeling guilty he rubbed his face and tried to think of something he could do since even his all-round solution of going to sleep until the problem solved itself failed him here.

He miracled away the mess on his bed and grabbed his phone. He had forgotten to recharge it and the screen remained dark. Crowley only hissed at it and the battery changed its mind, powering the mobile for the demon to check time and date. He had slept for almost two days and his angel would be worried.

He would have to call him soon, but to stall a bit the demon went to brush his teeth and take a shower first. Then, after taking a deep breath, he dialed Aziraphale’s number and waited.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but we are closed due to…ah…stocktaking,” the angel’s voice sounded after a while.

Crowley could not help but smile.

“Should be easy. You didn’t sell a single book since your last stocktaking,” he chuckled softly.

“Crowley!” Happiness and relief filled Aziraphale’s voice. “I am glad, you are alright. I wanted to check on you, but I did not want to impose…”

At that the demon swallowed. He wanted to say that of course Aziraphale could drop in whenever he wanted, but then again, the thought of the divine being walking in on him having a wet dream with the angel’s name on his lips was not a pleasant one.

“Crowley, are you still there?” Aziraphale asked after a moment. “Are you alright? Do you need me to come over, dear?”

The redhead felt his heart and stomach drop at these words. His oldest friend's love and concern easily doubled the guilt he felt over his dream.

“No, I am good,” he hurried to say. “Listen, I need to get away from London for a bit. Take a breather. You know, digest the whole apocalypse thing.”

For a moment the line went silent and Crowley was about to check if they had been disconnected, but then he heard the other’s voice again.

“I understand,” he said, his voice unnervingly neutral. “How long?”

“Only for a while. I just need some time to clear my head.”

“Alright. Thanks for letting me know.”

“’Course, angel,” Crowley said and added quickly: “Well, better be off now. Talk to you in a while.”

“Have a nice trip,” Aziraphale said. “Be safe, my dear.”

The call ended and Crowley was left alone with the silence in his home that was no home.

[1] “_Demon Crowley, in their endless mercy the members of the council of Hell have decided to spare your life. Your punishment is your removal from the service of Satan, rendering you unable to gain his approval with any demonic act you should perform.”_

Translation: “_We cannot punish you so we will pretend that’s exactly what we wanted. Further, you probably will not come back so we pretend that’s exactly what we want, too. But pretty, pretty please now and then commit your sweet acts of low key evil that amuse our Dark Lord so much and on the long run gain so much more than the thoughtless one-shots other demons perform.”_

[2] Crowley’s suggestion to fill the letter with anthrax or at least itching powder was shot down.

[3] Crowley was pretty sure that Aziraphale would not approve, but a demon could dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read chapter 1, especially to those who left a kind comment or kudos. It really means a lot.
> 
> Originally that was planned as a two chapter story, but chapter two was getting longer and longer so I had to split it. Chapter 3 will hopefully be ready soon.

_„Crowley, please, stop that now!“ Aziraphale begged, as the demon’s body pressed against his back, holding him down._

_“Sorry, angel,” whispered Crowley. “Not gonna happen. Just be good, I really don’t want to hurt you.”_

_His long slender fingers dug into the flesh of his angel’s hips, working down their way to the delicious bottom. Both hands found their goal at the same time, grabbing the cheeks roughly, spreading them apart. _

_“Crowley…” _

_“Shhh,” the demon hushed him while he worked him open._

_And then with a low groan he pushed in._

_“Crowley…”_

_“Just take it, angel,” he whispered. “I know you want it.”_

_“Crowley…”_

“Crowley!”

Startled Crowley sat up in his bed as he heard his name and felt someone poke his arm. Disoriented he frantically searched the inn room for the source of the voice and the touch that had awoken him. In the dim light he saw a figure standing in front of his bed and on instinct Crowley charged.

“Ooomph!” the intruder made in a too familiar voice as he was slammed against the ugly patterned wall.

“What the…?” Cursing Crowley kicked the light switch next to the door, keeping his hands on the late night visitor’s shoulder.

“Hello, my dear,” his favorite part-time rare bookseller said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Of course not, angel,” the demon grumbled sarcastically. “That’s why you broke into my room and yelled at me while I slept instead of knocking.”

“Ah, yes…” Aziraphale blushed. “I must apologize for my approach here. But I got very worried and thanks to the sigils you keep drawing wherever you sleep I could not find you. So I went to Tadfield tonight, sneaked into Adam’s room and asked him if he could help me to find you. And you know the boy. He said ‘sure’ and here I am.”

“Here you are,” the redhead sighed. “But why were you worried? I told you I needed some time.”

“That you did.” For the first time since his arrival a hint of irritation found its way into the angel’s voice. “Maybe I should have inquired you about your definition of ‘some time’.”

Crowley turned his head to look for his phone and check how long he had been asleep but when his gaze fell on the woods outside the window, he no longer needed to do that to understand his friend’s concern. When he had arrived at the inn, the trees had glowed proudly in copper and gold under the autumn sun, now they were bare of any leaves and countless tiny snowflakes were dancing around them in the pale moonlight.

“Shit!” he exclaimed.

“Language, dear,” Aziraphale admonished before the demon even had closed his mouth. “Anyway, it’s been months since you left and I grew concerned.”

“Angel, I…”

“Nonetheless, this is not how I wanted to approach you and I apologize for disturbing your sleep," he continued and blushed again. “Especially since your subconscious experiences appear to have been very… exciting.”

It was then that Crowley noticed that he was wearing nothing but his black boxers and was still sporting an impressive erection after his dream was interrupted before his release. And due to their position he was poking it into the angel’s soft belly.

“Oh, for…” He jumped back, setting the other being free. But his counterpart chose to stay where he was.

“You know,” Aziraphale rambled on. “I… I thought you were having a nightmare. Adam teleported me here to my surprise, it was dark and I heard you moaning and you were sweating, that much I saw in the moonlight. What I didn’t see was, well…the indications of the dream’s pleasant nature…”

The angel gestured downwards and pointedly looked into the opposite direction, still wearing the adorable red flush on his round cheeks.

“Yeah, I dream of Woodstock sometimes,” lied Crowley offhandedly.

“Ah, I see,” the blonde nodded with an inscrutable expression.

“So…” said Crowley.

“So…” repeated Aziraphale.

The demon was at a loss of what to do. His oldest friend had broken into the house of the Antichrist to enlist his help to find him so it would be rude to just send him off. But his problems had not been solved. He was still working on number one of his post-apocalyptic to-do list[1] and did not feel that his angel was safe around him. But at least his arousal was fading and the bulge in his black boxers disappeared slowly. Be grateful for the little things…

Frantically he tried to find the words to get rid of Aziraphale without hurting his feelings more than necessary. But before he could speak, the other beat him to it, suddenly looking very downcast.

“Listen, Crowley,” the blonde spoke in a bashful manner. “Assuring myself of your well-being is not the only reason I wanted to find you. I also came to apologize.”

“Huh?” Crowley made, surprised at that turn of the talk. “What for?”

“Please, my dear, don’t do that!” Aziraphale begged. “You don’t have to spare my feelings. Just… just be assured that it won’t happen again. Please, come home. I’ll do anything.”

The demon inside Crowley wanted to leer at Aziraphale: _“Anything?”_

The angel Crowley once was wanted to warn him: _“Run!”_

But at that moment they both lost against confused Crowley who unoriginally repeated: “Huh?”

“Crowley, please…,” the angel began, but the redhead interrupted.

“No, seriously,” he said. “What in the living He…Heav...what the fuck are you talking about?”

Aziraphale still looked crestfallen, but confusion also crept along his features.

“My…my behavior in the bookshop,” he spoke hesitantly and paused as if these words were enough for Crowley to catch up.

The demon shrugged and raised an eyebrow to signal him that they were not and the angel continued.

“You know, my silly attempt of an advance…” The angel gazed towards the ground with an expression as if he wanted to be swallowed by it. “I know I should have known better.”

“Advance?” Crowley repeated slowly while trying to grasp it.

“Look, I will pull myself together. I was being silly and confused your kindness with something else. I should have known that someone like _you_ couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like _me,_” Aziraphale started to ramble now. “It was the unholy combination of alcohol and wishful thinking. This of course can only be an explanation not an excuse and all I can do is apologize. I swear it won’t happen again. I am honored to be your friend and while I might wish for more, I will accept that I cannot have that.”

Dumbfounded Crowley stared at his friend, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed in concentration while he processed what his angel had said. When it all finally dawned on him, the first thing he felt was irritation.

“What do you mean, someone like _me_ would not be interested in someone like _you_?” he asked dangerously.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale smiled sadly. “You are beautiful, tall, slender, clever and interesting, always with the finger on the pulse of time. I am just a round, silly, boring old-fashioned bookworm.”

Growling Crowley took a step forward, crowding his friend against the wall again.

“Don’t talk about yourself that way!” he pressed out through gritted teeth in a low threatening voice. “You are the most beautiful, intelligent and interesting creature in the universe, no matter how out of date you might dress.”

“Oh!” The angel looked flustered and grew red around his cheeks again. “That… that’s a very kind thing to say.”

“No”, rumbled Crowley. “It’s a very true thing to say. And now, Aziraphale, you will have to explain to me, what exactly you mean when you say, you want ‘more’ and what you are apologizing for.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The blonde almost begged to be let off the hook but seemed to notice that this was not going to happen. “I am in love with you, Crowley, for a while now. And you were always so – don’t get mad at me, please – nice and helpful. You cared for me and were so considerate and kind that I foolishly thought that you might return my feelings. And so that night before you left, I… well, tried to get closer to you, in a most literal sense. Wasn’t my inept attempt at approaching you the reason you left so sudden?”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley questioningly and the demon stared back wide-eyed and open-mouthed. It took him a while to find his voice again.

“When you leaned over me to grab that book”, he inquired. “That was on purpose?”

As the blonde answered with a nod, Crowley could not help but chuckle. The whole thing had been his angel’s clumsy attempt at seduction.

“Do you even know what you did to me with that?” Crowley finally asked.

“Well, I have an idea, I suppose.” Embarrassed Aziraphale cast his gaze downwards again while he spoke. “You could not get away from me fast enough, so I guess I angered or appalled you.”

“Wrong,” Crowley sighed. “I left so quickly because your little stunt made me want to ravish you then and there.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed out surprised. After a while he tilted his head and stated: “But you didn’t.”

“What?”

“Ravish me.”

“Well, obviously! No!”

“No,” the angel repeated quietly, only to ask seconds later: “Why not?”

“What kind of question is that?” Crowley threw his arms in the air in exasperation. “Because I did not have your permission.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale nodded in understanding but again did not keep silent for long: “You have it now.”

“Excuse me?”

“My permission to…” He blushed profoundly. “…ravish me.”

For a second Crowley needed all his focus to keep his tainted soul attached to his body. The battle inside him raged higher than ever, the demonic part demanding that he took what was offered and what was his anyway. Crowley shook it off.

“That… that is not a good idea,” he answered.

“Why not? I thought you want me, too!” Aziraphale sounded desperate.

“I do. And that’s the problem, angel.” Now it was the demon’s turn to give a sad smile.

“Crowley that makes no sense, we…”

“Believe me, it’s better that way.”

“But…”

“You’d better leave now!” Crowley demanded with grave finality.

A bunch of different emotions flicked across the face of the divine creature in front of him: love, confusion, sadness, anger. But finally it settled into one expression Crowley knew all too well: the stubborn one.

“No!” Aziraphale stated defiantly, crossed his arms and cast his old friend a challenging look, daring him to do something about that.

“Don’t make me kick you out, Aziraphale,” the redhead warned. “The room is rented on my name.”

The angel snapped his fingers and said: “No, it’s not!”

“Did you just use a miracle to mess with the inn’s reservation book?”

“Maybe,” Aziraphale answered dismissively before starting to argue: “Look, Crowley, until a few minutes ago I thought my love for you was one-sided. That hurt, but I was willing to accept it. However, now I know that you feel the same and I will not make _both_ of us unhappy by denying something we both want.”

“Who says I want the same?” Crowley sneered, trying for a cutting tone. “You were the one talking about love. What if I just want to fuck you?”

“Well, do you?” Aziraphale let the obvious attempt to be hurtful slide off of him[2]. “Is this only lust to you?”

Asking this he stared into Crowley’s eyes and the demon felt like his friend gazed directly into his soul. And maybe he did. In that very moment Crowley could not have lied to save his life.

“No, it’s way more,” he whispered.

With a shy but determined look in his beautiful eyes, an endearing red tint on his cheeks and a loving smile on his lips, Aziraphale closed the distance between them. Tenderly his hands cupped Crowley’s face and he lifted himself on his toes to bring their mouths together.

At first Crowley was stunned, but he could not resist the soft feeling of the angel’s mouth on his own for long. Sighing he tilted his head and kissed back. Their lips were moving in a sweet rhythm and soon the demon’s tongue flicked out, asking to deepen the kiss. Without hesitation Aziraphale opened his mouth to let him in. Now that the demon was an enthusiastic participant, the angel went pliant in his arms, melted into him and allowed him to dominate the kiss. Possessively Crowley wrapped his arms around the blonde and pulled him closer. Moaning into the angel’s mouth he felt his cock come back to life at the soft sighs and whimpers the being in his arms let out.

Crowley’s grip became tighter, the kiss more ferocious. Old memories mingled with the new sensations.

Aziraphale, on the walls of Eden, haughty and self-righteous but also kind and rebellious.

Aziraphale watching the arc, awaiting the flood, faith and doubt battling behind his blue eyes.

Aziraphale scolding Crowley for suggesting an arrangement, only to give in decades later.

Aziraphale keeping Crowley at arm’s length and wrapping him around his finger without even noticing.

Aziraphale challenging Crowley with one look, provoking him with a few words, killing him with a smile.

At first it was a warm feeling flooding him, but after a while it became hot. Like a campfire, lit to keep warm, that suddenly jumps over and burns down the whole damn wood.

Aziraphale smiling at other people.

Aziraphale in deep discussion with Plato and his arrogant lot.

Aziraphale laughing and drinking with Sir Galahad that disgustingly perfect knight.

Aziraphale exchanging ideas with Shakespeare.

Aziraphale bantering with Oscar Wilde.

Aziraphale “talking shop” with Anathema Device.

A growl escaped Crowley’s throat only a moment before he used his body’s full force to slam Aziraphale against the wall again, one hand grabbing the angel’s blonde curls, the other roughly pinning his counterparts right wrist against the hard surface.

“Mine!” he hissed and pulled at the other’s hair to gain access to his neck and bit down hard until he tasted the metallic flavor of blood.

The angel’s surprised gasp broke the spell and Crowley let go of him. He stumbled a step back, staring in horror at the wound he had inflicted.

“Crowley?”

“Shit, angel, I am sorry!” he breathed out while he wiped his mouth. When he saw the red smears on his hand, he exclaimed: “Bless it! Why couldn’t you just go?”

Aziraphale now wore the condescending expression he always sported when he found Crowley to be especially dense. Crowley loved and hated that look.

“Because we love each other and I still don’t see…,” the angel began explaining.

“That’s right!” Crowley snarled, cutting him off. “You just don’t see. My love is not like yours. It’s not sweet or kind or tender. I am not made to be soft or gentle!”

To emphasize his point the redhead resumed his position in front of Aziraphale, not touching him but displaying his full height, looming over him, staring at him, golden irises glowing, pupils blown wide. If possible the red flush on the angel’s cheeks intensified as he sheepishly looked at Crowley.

“Well, you know,” he admitted. “When I imagined us together, I did not exactly picture you as gentle…”

“I…what?” the demon asked. “You thought about this?”

“A lot.” Aziraphale nodded and elaborated in a small voice: “And I always thought,… well, hoped, you’d be rather…ehm… passionate, not holding back. That you would just… take what you want.”

“Ngk,” Crowley made, his self-restraint fissuring at an alarming rate. “Angel, you… you don’t know what you’re saying. I...”

“Crowley, why are you looking for problems where there are none?” Aziraphale was growing desperate. “You say you can’t be gentle and I don’t want you to.”

“Fantasies are not the same as reality,” the redhead argued. “I might be way rougher than you pictured it.”

“We should at least try to…”

“I lied!” Crowley finally burst out.

“You are a demon, Crowley.” Aziraphale sighed. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“I did not have a boner because I dreamed about Woodstock. I dreamed about you.” The confession came out easily due to Crowley’s desperation. “And don’t feel too flattered, angel, I dreamed about hurting you, and not in a playful way. It was bad. And it was not just this once. If you knew half of what I do to you in my dreams, you would not be here anymore.”

Aziraphale seemed to consider his words for a moment. But he did not budge. Unfazed he held Crowley’s gaze. And there was this pompous expression on his pretty face again.

“Crowley”, he said with overly displayed patience like he was talking to an extremely slow minded child. “You are aware that you are the one who, literally seconds ago, told me that – and I quote – ‘fantasies are not the same as reality.’?”

“But…”

“I am not the expert on sleep here, but even I know that humans dream about a lot of crazy things,” he continued, dismissing the infernal being’s interruption by raising his right hand’s index finger. “Things they would not or could not do in real life.”

“Angel…”

“Like punching their boss in the face…”

“Angel…”

“…or being able to fly.”

“Aziraphale!” Crowley all but roared as he grabbed his friend by the lapels of his coat. He hated being ignored, especially by Aziraphale and even more so when he was trying to protect the stubborn ethereal creature.

“What?” the angel snapped. “I am trying to make a point here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Yes, dear, but you see, _your_ point is rather silly.”

“I…you…stupid angel, I just want to keep you safe,” Crowley snarled. “What if it gets too much? What if I_ really_ hurt you?”

“Well, in that case I will say something along the line of ‘ouch, that is too much’ and you will stop,” Aziraphale answered matter-of-factly before adding in a slightly pouty tone: “Just like you did a moment ago and – might I add – _without_ me asking you to.”

It was all getting too much for Crowley: the growing stirring in his loins, the rush of blood thrumming in his ears, and, last but definitely not least, the angel being his usual bitchy and yet adorable self. Still having a firm hold on Aziraphale’s coat, he brought his face dangerously close to the angel’s.

“Will I, angel?” he asked in a low threatening voice. “Are you sure about that?”

[1] Stop getting off on dreams about raping your best friend

Finish reading “War and Peace” (can’t be that hard!)

Learn how to pronounce ‘Worcestershiresauce’

[2] not unlike ducks do with water


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first: Again, thank you all so much for the kind comments and the kudos you left. That made me very happy!  
This chapter was a lot harder to write. (Heaven knows why.) So I can only hope it meets your expectations.

It was all getting too much for Crowley: the growing stirring in his loins, the rush of blood thrumming in his ears, and, last but definitely not least, the angel being his usual bitchy and yet adorable self. Still having a firm hold on Aziraphale’s coat, he brought his face dangerously close to the angel’s.

“Will I, angel?” he asked in a low threatening voice. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course, I am sure, why w…Wait! Is this one of those ‘I’m a demon, I’m not nice’ situations?” Aziraphale, unfazed by Crowley’s demeanor, rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “I thought we were _over_ this…”

That did it. Crowley snapped. He pulled the angel of the wall and hauled him towards the bed. With a surprised yelp Aziraphale landed on the mattress and before he had any time to process this, Crowley was lying above him.

“Over this?” he hissed in the other’s ear. “How could I get over being a demon?”

Before the blonde had a chance to answer, Crowley shut him up with a kiss that was all teeth and tongue. No longer fighting his arousal, he welcomed the sweet friction of his cock against the body beneath him while he pushed his lower body between Aziraphale’s legs. His hands roamed to find some skin to touch on his angel’s torso, but annoying layers of clothing stopped him. He growled impatiently and sat up, pulling the angel with him.

“Off with this!” he demanded, gesturing over the other’s attire.

The angel, still catching up with Crowley’s latest change of mind, nodded silently and began to shrug off his coat. Together with his trademark bow tie it landed on the armchair with the corny floral design near the window. Approvingly the demon hummed at Aziraphale’s prompt obedience, but after two buttons of the waistcoat being undone his patience evaporated and he snapped his fingers with an irritated huff, leaving the blonde in nothing but his underwear[1]. The light bulge appearing between the angel’s legs caused a smirk on the demon’s face.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale admonished. “Couldn’t we have done this the human way?”

Hissing Crowley pushed Aziraphale on his back again. With demonic speed he seized the angel’s wrists and pinned them roughly above his head. Easily he brought them together to hold them in place with his right hand while his left grabbed the blonde’s chin.

“We could have, Aziraphale,” he answered in a dark silky voice. “If _I_ had decided to. But _I_ decided otherwise. Is that a problem?”

Aziraphale gulped and for the first time he seemed a little intimidated. Crowley felt a twisted kind of satisfaction at that, adding to his arousal. Soon enough the angel shook his head.

“No, of course not,” he said quietly. “I apologize.”

Grinning down at him, Crowley stole another kiss, almost chaste compared to its predecessors, before moving to the angel’s enticing throat to lick and bite and make his claim there. Aziraphale moaned at his ministrations and spread his legs further. He moved his arms, seemingly to circle them around the demon but appeared to remember his place just in time, letting them fall back into the position Crowley had left them in, much to the latter’s delight. The demon smirked as he started kissing down the angel’s curved body. While he ravished the pink nipples and the sweet plump belly with teeth and tongue, his hands slid along the broad hips, sharp black nails digging into soft white flesh. A short hiss of pain by his angel caused Crowley to halt and look up. Aziraphale gazed back through half-lidded eyes full of love and trust, hands still above his head, chest falling and rising with his ragged breath. Worrying his bottom lip, he finally spoke in a very small voice as if afraid to disturb Crowley: “Please continue?”

“Since you ask so nicely,” Crowley purred and pushed himself up. Now standing in front of the bed, he removed his boxers, finally freeing his erection. Aziraphale’s eyes fell on the long throbbing member, the tip glistening with precum. He bit his lip nervously once more.

“Finally getting scared, angel?” asked the demon, not sure whether he wanted the answer to be yes or no. Or whether he wanted an answer at all.

“No, I just was reminded of my own…my effort… it’s male at the moment,” Aziraphale murmured.

“I can see that!” Crowley grinned down at the bulge and snapped his fingers.

Aziraphale’s underwear disappeared, revealing a thick, long, pale and definitely interested cock.

“Do you want me to change?” the blonde asked quietly.

“Oh, angel!” Crowley cooed, looking down at him. “I really don’t care what we start with. We won’t leave this room anyway until I fucked and used you in any possible way.”

The angel’s eyes went wide and for a moment the demon thought he had finally effectively shocked him. But that moment passed soon as the blonde suddenly pushed himself up, threw his arms around Crowley’s neck and pressed their mouths together. Both of them parted their lips immediately on instinct and quickly lost themselves in a passionate kiss that Crowley had more trouble taking control of than he had at the first. Their cocks rubbed against each other at the movement, causing them to moan loudly. Crowley allowed Aziraphale this freedom for a while but then grabbed his neck firmly, pulled him back and fixated him with a very stern look from his fiery snake eyes.

“Oh”, said Aziraphale sheepishly. “Right. You are in charge.”

“That I am,” the redhead smirked, moving his hand from the pale neck into the blond curls, pressing down. “But since you are already here, you might make yourself useful, don’t you think?”

The angel followed the demon’s gaze downward and understood. With Crowley still standing in front of the bed, he just had to sink a little lower to his knees to find the perfect angle. At first the angel hesitated, but when the infernal being in front of him tightened the grip on his hair, he willingly opened his mouth and Crowley slid in.

He had intended to go slow, but as soon as these sweet soft lips were wrapped around his cock, he forgot everything else and just started to fuck into the welcoming warmth. Groaning he threw his head back, still a firm hold on the other being’s blonde hair, and with deep and even thrusts took his pleasure from the angel kneeling in front of him. But then he felt the other’s tongue swirling around his member’s head. Surprised he looked down just in time to see Aziraphale hollow his cheeks and suck in earnest. Gasping at the jolt of pleasure surging through him at the sensation and the sight, Crowley needed all his self-control not to cum then and there. What he could not control was the _other_ feeling, the sinister feeling that spread through him the moment his angel had taken an active role. Before he could stop himself, he brutally yanked the divine being off his cock by the soft blond curls and pulled him up to bring them eye to eye.

“Who?” he growled.

“Pardon me?” Aziraphale simply gave back, only feeding the anger Crowley experienced.

With a snarl the demon manhandled the angel to turn him around and roughly push him face forward onto the mattress. Keeping him in place with the right hand, he smacked his left across the plump white ass beneath him, eliciting a cry of pain from the angel.

“Who?” Crowley repeated through gritted teeth.

“I don’t understand…” Another harsh slap interrupted the angel before his hair was grabbed again and the furious redhead yanked his upper body up by the blond curls.

“Who taught you to suck cock like that?” the demon hissed in his ear. “Who did you do that for?”

“What?” Aziraphale asked incredulously and full of indignation. “Nobody of course!”

None too gently Crowley’s teeth scraped along the other being’s soft neck, before sharply digging into the flesh, causing a short cry of pain. He then soothed the bite mark with his forked tongue and whispered: “Don’t lie to me, angel! Who did you whore yourself out to?”

“I am not lying, Crowley,” the angel sobbed. “I may have read some things about… that. I just tried to please you.”

Crowley’s expression softened and his temper cooled off.

“What about other things?” the demon wanted to know. His hands now wandered up and down the angel’s spine, making the white wings on the ethereal plane shiver. Suddenly Crowley grabbed both cheeks of the deliciously full arse and spread them apart. Positioning himself behind the angel, he let his own dripping erection slide along the warm skin covering the pubic arch. He moaned at the sensation but did not forget his question.

“Has someone ever been around or – to be more precise - _in_ here?” One of his fingers circled the puckered entrance between the plump cheeks. “Or maybe in another opening you may or may not have had at some point.”

“Of course not,” Aziraphale answered quietly but with insistence. He had turned his head as far as possible, looking over his shoulder, trying to meet Crowley’s eyes. “Who would I have allowed to do that?”

The demon took hold of the broad hips beneath him to turn the angel around almost gently, speaking in relative terms. On his back again, Aziraphale at once spread his legs so that Crowley could position his slender body between them. The redhead wasted no time and grabbed both their erections. After slicking their members in their combined precum, he started rubbing them together. The angel could do nothing but gasp and throw his head back, moaning in pleasure. His inexperience making the sensation overwhelming, leaving him at Crowley’s mercy. The latter relished in the sight of the pliant body beneath him, writhing and squirming helplessly under his touch.

“Tell me nobody has had you before, angel,” he demanded in a low tone. “Swear it!”

There was a reasonable voice inside of Crowley’s head, telling him that he was being a hypocrite. For all the centuries of loving Aziraphale, he had never lived his life chastely. He had enjoyed the bodies of many humans he seduced. The curvier, the better. He had closed his eyes, told them to shut up and imagined their softness to be someone else’s. But another voice told him that as a demon he had the fucking right to be a selfish, greedy bastard with moral double standards and while this voice sounded less reasonable, it certainly had a point.

Beneath him, Aziraphale, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation, nodded and made affirmative noises.

“I want you to say it!” Crowley hissed. “Swear that I am your first!”

As the blonde beneath him opened his mouth and started to stutter out some indistinctive syllables, the demon took pity in him and slowed down his ministrations to allow the angel to think clearer, at least for a moment. Aziraphale’s deep blue eyes finally found his golden ones.

“I swear!” he spoke honestly. “There was nobody else. It’s only ever been you.”

Crowley stopped all his movements and stared at his angel for a second that felt like an eternity. Then, very slowly he let go of their cocks, pushed himself on his hands and knees, hovering above Aziraphale, just taking him in. A self-conscious expression crept upon the blonde’s features and he started moving his arms to cover himself. But Crowley was too fast. With demonic speed, he once more seized the other’s wrists and pinned them on the mattress, covering the angel’s body with his own.

“Mine!” he said licking along the angel’s jawline. “All mine!”

“All yours.” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley moved his head. They now were eye to eye. Gold staring into sky blue, both with pupils blown wide with arousal. Aziraphale was nervous. Crowley could see it, feel it, even smell it. But the angel was _not_ scared. He kissed him again. Slowly this time. Afterwards he moved away and knelt between the blonde’s thick thighs. Carefully he lifted the other’s knees and pushed his legs apart.

“No going back now, angel!” Miraculously a brand new bottle of lube[2] was in his hands and he uncapped it. “I won’t let you go now.”

“Where _would_ I go?” Aziraphale asked while Crowley poured the cool liquid over his fingers. “You’re here.”

“Good point,” the demon rumbled and carefully pushed a finger in.

The angel sucked in a breath at the intrusion and another when Crowley impatiently let the second finger follow soon. He answered an inquiring look from the demon with a slight nod and made no further sound of protest or discomfort as Crowley started to circle and scissor the long and nimble digits inside him.

Crowley knew he had found his angel’s sweet spot when the soft whimpers and sighs were replaced by a loud moan. A smug grin spread across the redhead’s face while he watched the divine creature frantically turning his head from side to side. If not for his well-manicured nails Aziraphale might have shredded the sheets as he dug his fingers in while writhing in pleasure. And if not for his own throbbing erection, by now bordering on painful, Crowley would have loved to do that for hours: having his sweet angel at his mercy, making him keen and squirm with every stroke inside him while he worked him open. But there was no way he would find his own release outside the soft and inviting body beneath him.

“Crowley, please, I need you,” Aziraphale suddenly breathed out between his moans, the final and fatal blow against Crowley’s patience[3].

He pulled the angel in one more bruising kiss before lining up his member. One last miracle to make sure the preparation would suffice and he met Aziraphale’s gaze. The blonde smiled and nodded.

With a low growl Crowley pushed in, one fluid motion, up to the hilt. The angel’s soft inner walls taking him in, stretching around him. The demon halted, savoring the velvety sensation.

“Angel!” he breathed out. “So tight.”

Aziraphale’s lips were parted in a silent cry while he desperately searched for leverage, scrambling between the rumpled sheets and the demon’s biceps.

“Sshh,” Crowley soothed. “I’ve got you.”

He braced his upper body on his elbows so he was able to lay his forearms along Aziraphale’s biceps and put his hands on the angel’s shoulders. Several shudders went through the celestial being’s body, overwhelmed by the unknown sensations, but Crowley’s touch steadied him and after a while he calmed down, except for his ragged breath.

“Okay, angel?” the demon wanted to know.

With a dazed smile Aziraphale nodded and with a light twitch of his hips signaled Crowley to move. The demon was happy to do just that. He started with slow even thrusts, but when his lover started to gasp and moan beneath him, he could not help picking up speed. Soon his cock was pistoning in and out his angel. Greedily he took his pleasure from the pliant body, savoring the sweet noises he managed to draw out of his lover. He had lifted himself up by now to watch the movement where they were joined. Aziraphale’s no longer virginal opening, stretched around his own hardened member, was a sight to behold and he bit his lip to distract himself for a moment lest the whole affair would end prematurely.

The angel seemed to be beyond coherent thought now and the only words from his mouth that made any sense were “Crowley”, “please” and “more”. But that was fine. Especially combined with each other they might become Crowley’s favorites. He brought his lips to the blonde’s ear.

“You’re mine now, angel!” he whispered. “I’ll never let you go and if I have to tie you to this bed forever.”

“Crowley!”

“That’s my name!”

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop!”

“Stop?” Crowley chuckled darkly. “I’ve waited so long to make you my slut. Why would I stop now that you wail and beg so nicely?”

If possible, Aziraphale moaned even louder at these words, causing a complacent grin on the demon’s face. If it would have been his decision, they would go on forever. But supernatural being or not, their human vessels, though heavily improved compared to the originals, had limits. All good things come to an end.

Crowley felt his own climax approaching. He supported his weight with his left arm and circled the right hand around the angel’s shaft. It only took three even strokes and Aziraphale’s inner walls clenched around Crowley’s member, his eyes fluttered shut and he made a noise somewhere between a cry and a moan.

“I love you so much!” he sobbed before he painted his stomach with white streams of cum.

Whether it was the words or the sight Crowley would not be able to tell later, but the last remains of his control vanished. With vicious thrusts into his angel’s body he chased his own pleasure, his fingers grabbing every inch of skin they could reach, digging deep into the flesh, leaving dark red bruises on milky white skin. With his teeth he marked Aziraphale’s collarbone, his throat, his neck.

“Aziraphale!” he finally shouted and with one last deep thrust he buried himself deep inside the angel and came.

He did not ride his orgasm out. He just held his lover in a bruising grip, face buried in the pale neck and shuddered while he spilled his essence inside the angel.

After a while, maybe seconds, maybe minutes or hours, he regained his senses and groaning pushed himself up. Reluctantly he pulled his softening penis out of the body beneath him. Looking at his lover’s face, he saw that his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily.

“You okay there, angel?” he asked concerned, guilt creeping over him at the sight of the many marks and bruises he had left. It did not help that it took Aziraphale forever to react. Well, a few seconds to be precise, but they certainly seemed like forever. Eventually his lashes fluttered and he looked at the demon through half-lidded eyes.

“Never better, my dear,” he answered tiredly, having trouble keeping his eyes open.

“Maybe you should try sleeping for once,” Crowley chuckled.

“Mhm,” the angel just made, but then he asked shyly: “Would you… take me in your arms?”

The demon smiled tenderly and pulled Aziraphale close. Pressing a soft kiss at the blond curls, he said: “’Course, angel.”

*

Crowley was watching the sun climbing up the winter sky behind the naked trees in the east. The snow that had fallen last night now lay heavy on the bare branches and glittered beautifully in the red streams of light falling on the woods.

When the bed creaked, the redhead immediately drew his gaze from the view outside and turned to his angel. Aziraphale was just sitting up in the bed and smiled. Only hesitantly Crowley met his eyes as he sat down next to him.

“Hey, angel,” he smiled, stroking the other’s cheek softly.

“Good morning, my dear.” Aziraphale happily leaned into the loving touch.

“I am sorry,” Crowley said.

“What?” The angel’s face fell and he all but begged: “Crowley, no, please don’t leave me again! Not now!”

His heart breaking at Aziraphale’s desperate expression, Crowley immediately put his hands on the other’s shoulders.

“No, no, no, angel,” he soothed. “Of course I won’t. No. I mean, I am sorry for… all that.”

He gestured over the various bruises on Aziraphale’s body, before finally caressing over one especially prominent mark at his throat.

“Oh…,” the angel said in relief. “I am fine, dear.”

“Sure?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale assured him and after a moment he added in a slightly teasing tone: “You warned me after all. It’s not that I did not know how dangerous you are.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes and grabbed the angel’s chin.

“And yet you keep on poking me,” he said in a low tone.

“Oh, I would never!” Aziraphale announced way too enthusiastically. “You’re a demon after all.”

“Aziraphale, please.” As much as Crowley loved Aziraphale’s teasing side, he did not want him to take things too lightly. “I meant what I said: I will never let you go. But there is a dark side in me, angel, that I struggle to control sometimes. So yes, I _am_ a demon after all. I can be possessive and jealous and brutal and, well, demonic.”

Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheekbone and smiled.

“No matter what you say, I am not afraid of you, Crowley,” he stated.

“Maybe you should be,” the demon gave back. “Of the demon that I am.”

“Ah, yes, the demon,” the angel smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “The demon who tried for 10 minutes to talk me out of giving myself to him.”

“That was when I had some control…”

“Mhmm, yes. Control that you absolutely did not have when you stopped to check I was alright or when you used lube _and_ a miracle before penetration.”

“Well, I…”

“I mean, you made sure I was alright _before _and_ after_ entering me,” Aziraphale continued unfazed. “That was truly demonic!”

“That’s not funny, Aziraphale!” Crowley exclaimed.

“No, it’s not,” the angel nodded, suddenly wearing a very serious expression. “It’s actually quite sad that you see yourself as some kind of monster that is just waiting for a chance to hurt me. You had this chance, Crowley! Several times over the millennia. You found me in many vulnerable positions and NEVER took advantage of that. And last night? I did not even want you to and still you regularly checked on me. And I refuse to believe that you would have ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”

Crowley took in the sight of his angel. His facial expression was pleading and the funny thing was that he pleaded in front of Crowley on Crowley’s own behalf. There was an amount of trust and faith shining in that deep blue eyes that almost hurt. The demon was not completely convinced that the angel’s unwavering believe in him was justified, but he felt hopeful. Aziraphale had a point. Not last night and not ever before had he ever hurt Aziraphale. At least not against his will. He still was not sure if he could have stopped the night before, had the angel asked him to after a certain point. But Aziraphale firmly believed that. Maybe Crowley could at least give himself the benefit of the doubt. Letting Aziraphale go was no longer an option anyway. The thought of not ever having him had been painful before, but giving him up after he had known him that way? Not a chance! So maybe he could try and see himself through Aziraphale’s eyes. They were, after all, the only pair of eyes that had ever looked at him with love.

“I will continue to miracle dog poo under people’s shoes when they flirt with you,” he finally said.

“What? You do that?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yes! And I will be extremely rude to people who hog your attention for too long.”

“Customers, too?”

“Especially customers!”

“Oh, my dear, that’s wonderful!”

“Hmm, but now I have a promise to keep,” said Crowley.

Without further ado he pushed Aziraphale back on the mattress and climbed above him, straddling his hips.

“What promise?”

“The promise I gave you when you asked whether or not you should change your effort,” the demon grinned.

For a moment Aziraphale furrowed his brows in an attempt to remember. Crowley recognized the moment he recalled the situation because of the adorable blush spreading across the lovely face.

“That… will take some time, darling,” he stuttered.

“Oh yes, but I am a demon of my word,” Crowley stated dramatically. “And we have all the time in the world.”

“Yes, we do,” Aziraphale agreed with a smile before he was silenced by a promising kiss.

The End

[1] It was only fair since Crowley had been in that state the whole time.

[2] The gentleman in room 3 swore to his lover that he had put it in the suitcase. Even during a months long sleep Crowley just _knew_ when a self-proclaimed “oldtimer expert” touched his car.

[3] To be fair, the poor thing already had been badly wounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty story, sappy ending! I hope you liked it!  
Thanks for reading!


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